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They’re burying both the recently deceased and the corpses of those that became undead, giving last rites to both. They’re arming the soldiers and setting up weapons on the battlements.
Corvan’s expecting an attack. He thinks someone’s waiting for him to leave the castle.
Suddenly, all of Tyron is in war-mode.
From my vantage point through Corvan’s window, I watch as heavily armed men march across the grounds. Occasionally, a great boom rocks the glass—they’re testing the cannons.
It’s a world away from the bliss I enjoyed at the soft emergence of dawn—withhim.
Corvan’s come back to check on me several times. He’s been terribly doting and protective today, bossing me about resting, eating, making sure the bite marks on my neck have healed—which theyhave;I seem to heal much easier since my powers were unlocked. When I took him to task for his overbearing behavior, he cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Finley, I know you aren’t used to being treated like a queen, but you must allow me to take excessively good care you, even just for today.”
“Why?”I’d asked, bemused by his sudden intensity.
“I nearly lost you. And the realization of it has driven me a little mad. So don’t take me to task if I want to spoil you a little. I can’t help it.”
And it occurred to me then that something inside of him had changed.
He was different, somehow. More protective. More doting. And a little on edge. I can sense a cold anger inside him. It fills me with a hint of trepidation when I think about what he might be capable of.
And when I think of it the other way round—if someone were to try and steal me away from himagain—I can understand him perfectly well, because I, too would be furious.
I want nothing more than to stay here in Tyron, by his side.
I want peace. I want the ghosts of the past to stop haunting Corvan. And it were up to me, I’d vanquish them all.
I close my eyes and try to feel the strange, unfamiliar power within me. I seek that pressure; the feeling that my own soul is too big for my mortal body, that wild energy that needs release, bursting forth from my hands, forming living tendrils out of wood and summoning the ancient forest trees.
I demand to control that power.
And yet, I find nothing.
It’s sofrustrating.Eulisyn gave me that damn heart-seed, and for what? What good am I if I can’t even use my powers to protect and defend Corvan the way he does me?
Never before in my life have I yearned for power.
Now, I wish I was so strong I could vanquish all of Corvan’s enemies with a thought.
I don’t want to rule over others. I don’t want to try and claim some sort of false superiority.
I just want peace.
I want Corvan to know peace.
Why do they torment him so? Why can’t they just let himbe?
A deep sigh escapes me as I open my eyes and contemplate the deepening shadows in the courtyard. The sun is starting to fade. The promise of night looms, and with it comes a sense of foreboding.
I know that Corvan wants to depart at first darkness; he plans to steal into the imperial palace under the cover of night. He said it so easily, as if stealing into the place unnoticed is as easy as taking a stroll in the woods.
One does not simply infiltrate into the emperor’s inner sanctum, but apparently, Corvan can.
“I grew up there. There isn’t a single nook or cranny that I don’t know like the back of my hand.”
And just like that, I feel his maddening presence again, as if merely thinking about him has summoned him.
I didn’t hear him—I never do.
But his approach was perfect—a whisper of warmth across the back of my neck; his hand, gently resting on my waist. And he gives me time to register his presence.
